


Say It!

by LoTJ



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M, Multi, Rough Sex, Threesome - F/F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:01:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26215324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoTJ/pseuds/LoTJ
Summary: Stolen moments between B'Elanna Torres and Harry Kim.B'Elanna needed something Tom couldn't give her. Luckily, Harry was at hand...Will Seven and Tom eventually find out?
Relationships: Harry Kim/B'Elanna Torres, Harry Kim/Seven of Nine
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: depicts acts of graphic sex. For those under age, or of an easily offended disposition, please do not proceed. 
> 
> Disclaimer: Star Trek & Star Trek: Voyager is owned by Paramount/Viacom.  
> I own nothing, except a twisted mind and a keyboard.

**Say It**

_By LoTJ_

B’Elanna Torres bit down hard on the bed-spread and let out an animalistic growl, as she felt the tip of Harry Kim's cock pushing into her tight rectum. On her hands and knees, with her face buried in the mattress and her ass held up in the air. _Gods_ , she loved this. Harry loved it too. Hearing her lover’s own animalistic growl, she felt herself stretching to accommodate him as he pushed deeper into her. 

Her fingers contracted and balled up the bed-spread in her hands. Instinctively she pushed-back onto her lover to take more of him into her, needing to feel his entire length inside her. She felt a pair of powerful hands grip her waist, and with a sudden yank backwards she felt him slide in and sheath himself inside her passage, to the hilt. 

“Say it.” his voice demanded. 

She loved this part almost as much as the sex itself. The back-and-forth, tug of war between her will and his. The way he always managed to take the control from her, and reduce her to a mere play-thing. Sure, she nearly always let him win, but she made him work for it.

“Fuck you.” she replied with a grin, and braced herself for what she knew was coming next. 

Her lover slid back to the point he almost left her passage entirely, before slamming back hard - all the way inside her. And again. And again. He repeated this action in quick succession a total of ten times. She loved it. The feeling of being stretched out by his thick cock. The sound of flesh slapping flesh as he pounded into her ass. She lived for times like these. A hand came down on her left ass cheek, hard.

“Say it, B.” he demanded again. 

“Not saying it, Starfleet.” she ground out through gritted teeth, bracing for the next round. He didn’t disappoint. Another furious round followed as the most upstanding Ensign in Starfleet history rained powerful, open-handed blows down on her ass-cheeks before he started slamming back into her with renewed force.

She knew that they would need to use the dermal regenerator tonight. Luckily she had managed to sneak one out of Sickbay for just these occasions. 

As her lover continued to punish her tight passage, B’Elanna cast her mind back to when this all began. How long ago exactly? She couldn’t be sure. After all, infidelity with your boyfriend's best pal wasn’t something you logged in a journal. She knew it was a while after she became romantically involved with Tom, and before Harry and Seven became an item. Of that she was sure. 

_Tom_. Her boyfriend. Who, right now, was on an away mission with Chakotay and wouldn’t be back for another twenty hours at least. Seven of Nine tucked quietly away in her alcove, regenerating for the next six to eight hours. 

An away mission. That was how this had all started. Tom was away, and Harry and B’Elanna were in Sandrine's, drinking heavily and playing pool badly. An innocent conversation between friends. _How are things with Tom? Oh, good, good..._

A few more ales and a few more rounds of pool.

_However…_

She wasn’t sure why she confided in Harry. Perhaps because it was just Harry. Or maybe, she wanted to see Starfleet blush _._

_Boy, did she have him pinned down wrong._

A sudden move from Harry brought her out of her memories and back to the present. He had wrapped his arms around her waist and hoisted her against his chest. Continuing his thrusts, she felt a hand slip to one of her petite breasts and pinch fiercely at the nipple. The other hand dipped down between her legs and found her clit, and rubbed hard and fast. She threw an arm around his neck and cradled him close. She almost screamed out loud when his teeth sunk into her neck. Just below the ear. Just how she _needed_ it. 

She had never expected this of Harry Kim. What was that old Terra saying? 

_“It’s always the quiet ones...”_

She had complained to him that night in Sandrine's. Tom was great. Tom was fantastic. Yet...there was something missing. He didn’t interrupt her. He simply listed to her talk in low, conspiratorial tones around the pool table, about the one thing Tom was lacking.

The sex was good. It was nice. 

She didn’t want _'_ _nice’_ _._

She had explained to Tom after a few weeks of dating about Klingon mating rituals. How, being half-Klingon, there was a side of her that wanted it to be rougher. Biting. Scratching. Dirty talk. Tom had listened quietly taking it in, and after a few glasses of wine one evening he had even tried it.

It had been a disaster. He had stopped almost as quickly as he began. Wrapped up in his arms, he had explained to her that he cared for her too much to hurt her. He wouldn’t call her a _‘bitch’ (or any other name for that matter)_ because he respected her too much. 

Truth be told it was one of the sweetest moments B’Elanna had ever shared with anyone, and she loved him for it.

However, try telling that to her Klingon genes. They simply didn’t like _‘nice_ ’.

With a head full of ale and poor judgement she had finally confided ( _drunkenly_ ) to Harry that, as much as she loves Tom, there was just something missing. Something she desperately needed. Harry hadn’t said much. He had stared at her with those soulful dark eyes of his, patted her on the shoulder and told her he understood. 

After a few more ales, a truly terrible game of pool, they both walked out of Sandrine's arm-in-arm. Just two good friends having a much needed break. No harm, no foul, right? 

She wasn’t sure who started it. All she knows is that, as they got to B'Elanna’s sleeping quarters, they were giggling. One shoved the other. A playful shove back. Then someone got bitten. Who? She’ll never know for sure. But someone was bitten, and they bit right back.

What followed was two hours of the roughest sex B’Elanna had ever experienced in her life. She was slapped. Spanked. Bitten. Punched. Kicked. Her hair was yanked so hard it almost came out in clumps. She was called a _slut_ , a _bitch_ , a _cunt_. 

Harry Kim, the most upstanding Ensign in Starfleet history, had quite simply _fucked her brains out_. She had been used and abused. She had loved every second of it. 

To this day, she still remembers clearly that night when Harry had dragged her over to the sofa by hair. Sitting down, he yanked her face onto his cock. She swallowed it whole, down to the base, despite some resistance from her gag reflex. Harry didn’t care. He held her head firmly and pushed his cock as far back into her throat as he could. He fucked her mouth.

The sight, through her tear filled eyes, of Harry’s swollen member leaving her mouth. His thick, meaty cock coated in her saliva and _Gods_ knows what else. It was the most erotic thing she had ever seen. 

She snapped back to reality as Harry fell forward and pinned her to the bed. The hand at her breast moved and grabbed a handful of her hair. His other hand continued to expertly twist and pinch her clit. She was going to cum. And she was going to say it.

“Say it now B. or I’ll stop.” an idle threat. She knew he was enjoying this too much to ever stop. 

“Going to have to do better than that, Starfleet.” was her reply. 

The hand between her legs stopped and was drawn up to her face. Without asking, the fingers were pressed inside her mouth. She moaned as she savoured the taste of her own sex coated on his fingers. 

“You’ll say it, you _bitch_.” he spat. 

She almost whined as the fingers of her lover were moved from her mouth. Harry leaned back and planted both hands into the small of her back, pinning her to the mattress. From this angle she knew he would be able to get better leverage. Sure enough, Harry began to lift himself up and slam back down inside her tight ass with much more force. 

_Yes!_ This was what she needed. The pressure of Harry’s thick member jackhammering into her tight passageway. It was too good. She felt her release beginning to build. She threw her head back and made a noise, Klingon in nature. Something between a growl and a moan. Harry knew that sound well, and he knew what it meant.

She knew she should feel bad. They both should. How many times had they promised to stop? How many times would they lie to themselves? “ _This is the **last** time_.” Yeah. Right. 

She felt her lover grab a handful of hair and yank her head back hard. He continued to pound into her furiously. She could hear his heavy breathing. The smell of their sweat, sex and blood. It shot tingles straight to her core. 

“Say it!” he practically roared from behind her. She felt a hard sting across her cheeks. He had slapped her. She growled again. _Nearly there.._.

Another slap. And another. And another. _Gods_ , she loved it. She was going to cum, and with it she would give him the control. She would say it.

“You!” she growled out quietly through gritted teeth.

“Louder.” he demanded, and struck her again with another open palmed slap to her face. 

“ ** _YOU!_ **” she barked as her release built to the point it was almost unbearable. 

“Say it! Who does this _ass_ belong to?” he asked fiercely. 

“You! _Just_ you! **_Always_ ** _you!_ ” she gave in entirely, and with the act of defeat came her orgasm. It was powerful, as always with Harry. She shuddered from head to toe. Her muscles contracted and clamped down hard on his cock. Her toes curled. She nearly ripped the bed-spread in half. That powerful itch between her thighs had been thoroughly scratched. She felt her juices gush out of her and cover the bed-spread. She collapsed, panting like an animal. 

Harry never stopped pounding. 

“Damn right it does. Mine. _All mine!_ ” he announced victoriously. After a few final thrusts, she felt him pull out. She rolled onto her back and assumed the position she knew so well. 

She watched as her lover tugged furiously at his red, swollen meat and aimed it at her. 

Sometimes, she thinks, she loves this part best of all. When he marks his territory. With a roar of triumph, a sound she swore was almost Klingon, she saw Harry explode. She felt the hot, salty, sticky mixture land in her hair, her ridges, across her face, her neck, and even (after a few last pumps) her petite and bruised tits.

She didn’t move as Harry’s legs turned to jelly, and with an unceremonious thump he landed on the bed next to her. He was panting for air just as badly as she was. She saw the bruise beneath his right eye she had given him earlier, during their foreplay. 

Yes, they would definitely need the dermal regenerator tonight. 

A loving gaze entered Harry’s eyes. She watched with fascination as he slowly reached a hand out to her face. He stroked her ridges gently. She always _purred_ whenever he did this. He slowly brought his hand back to her face, to show her he had wiped some of his spill off her brow. Bringing his fingers to her lips, she greedily accepted them into her mouth. She moaned deeply as her tongue worked to savour the salty taste of her lover.

He leaned over and kissed her ridges. 

“Say it.” he whispered.

“Thank you.” 


	2. Keeping Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stolen moments between B'Elanna Torres and Harry Kim.
> 
> Fun in the jefferies tubes.

Ensign Harry Kim sat in the Mess Hall and tried to keep his emotions under check, as he ate breakfast with his best friends and lover. The food itself was pretty standard fare; Neelix had rustled up some sausages and pancakes. The pancakes were fine, but the sausages were _heavily_ spiced and left a weird, numbing sensation in the back of the throat that gave way to dry-coughs and some unpleasant itching. More than once, after taking a hearty bite into the spicy tubes, he had to deal with errant tears leaking from the corner of his eye; dabbing them away with his sleeves. Two sausages down, and one more to go - he had already drank thirty three ounces of water. 

It wasn’t the sausages that were causing Harry discomfort.

It was B’Elanna. 

It was _always_ B’Elanna. 

More specifically; what he and B’Elanna had gotten up to in the jefferies tubes just two days prior. Something that neither Tom or Seven should **_ever_ **hear about. Trying to block-out the memory, Harry refocused his attention on his breakfast, and his lover.

Seven of Nine sat opposite him in her silver catsuit, obviously as displeased with the food as everyone else at the table. Her pancakes were finished, but the sausages were proving just as challenging to the stoic ex-Borg as it was to everyone else who tasted them. A few small slices had been cut-off, chewed, and reluctantly swallowed. She clearly had no interest in finishing them off. 

_"She’s so_ _beautiful",_ Harry thought to himself as he took a few seconds to look her over. A headful of silken, blonde hair. Electric blue eyes. A full-set of pouty red lips and a graceful, slender neck. Below that, a curvaceous figure; large, firm breasts topped with rose-pink nipples. A narrow waist. Even further down - long, toned legs that lead up to, as his buddy Tom once put it: “ _An ass that just won’t quit_ .” And between those legs? _Heaven_. 

She lifted her gaze from her plate and caught his eyes. A soft, delicate smile tugged at the corners of her mouth and her eyebrow arched a fracture of an inch, almost imperceptibly. No doubt her enhanced vision had detected his pupil dilation, and a dozen other obvious signs of his arousal. He grinned back at her. 

B’Elanna’s laughter snapped him out of his romanticizing. 

She was sitting next to him, and Tom - his best buddy in the whole Delta Quadrant - was sitting opposite her. They had been laughing over breakfast. About what? Who knew? Probably the food, just like everyone else. Tom’s arm was across the table, holding B'Elanna’s much smaller, but much stronger hand in his own. His loving eyes spoke volumes, and B’Elanna beamed right back at him. Harry couldn’t help but watch the two love birds in action. They were so right for each other. So perfect as a couple. Nobody could doubt it. And yet…two days ago...

Harry suddenly felt ashamed. Ashamed of his memories, his lust and his desires. The heat rose in his cheeks. Trying to stay cool, he tore his gaze away from his best friends and stared straight into the eyes of his own lover. Seven’s face was deadpan. It was always deadpan. 

Harry struggled with the urge to panic. Had she noticed anything? _Did she know?_ With her enhanced vision and cognitive powers there was hardly anything she couldn’t detect. Deep down he knew she would figure out what was happening eventually. It was only a matter of time…

Harry decided to play it cool, and gave Seven a coy smile before asking, “How’s the food?” - knowing full well what she thought of the food. 

Without showing any expression whatsoever, Seven stood up from the table with her tray. “Lieutenants, Harry - if you’ll excuse me - I do not wish to be late for my shift in Astrometrics.” she addressed them, gave them a small nod of the head, and marched towards the waste recycler. A few more strides and she was out the door of the Mess Hall - off to work.

Tom pushed away his own plate and drained the last of his coffee. “Well, Har.” said the blue-eyed helmsman standing up, “guess we don’t want to be late, either?” He leaned over and gave B’Elanna a quick peck on the lips. Trying not to look, Harry rose with a “See you later, B.” and left with his buddy - not daring to look back. They strode out of the Mess Hall and towards the turbolift. “Bridge.” Harry commanded when it arrived. A handful of seconds later and they were at their stations, relieving Gamma shift. 

Harry prayed the time would pass quickly, but a quick scan of his console showed it would be otherwise. A small sigh escaped his lips.

**_Please_ ** _don’t let this be a long day..._

\-----

Two days earlier…

\-----

Harry whistled as he walked along the corridor of Deck Eleven heading towards Main Engineering. Things were quiet on the Bridge, and B’Elanna had contacted Commander Chakotay requesting some extra assistance investigating some of the gel-packs in the jefferies tubes on Deck Twelve. It was causing some strange readings with Environmental Control. Assured that it wasn’t life-threatening, and seeing that Ensign Kim was unoccupied on Ops., Chakotay agreed to lend the young Ensign to B’Elanna for a few hours to scramble through the tubes and fix the problem.

Entering Engineering, he found the Chief attending to her station - in an unusually good mood. “Hey Starfleet.” she greeted him with a grin and moved in close. “Ready to spend a little time with me on your hands and knees?” she half-whispered conspiratorially. 

Harry tried not to blush. Whether she meant it or not, the suggestive comment brought with it a flood of erotic images and memories. It has been over four weeks since their last tryst. Sure, he’d been with Seven practically each night since, but still... 

Trying to look cool he managed to croak out a “Can’t wait.” with a plastered-on, shit-eating grin. He tried his best to ignore his growing arousal. With tricorders in hand, they walked over to a hatch and the tiny half-Klingon effortlessly popped it open. She bent forward and entered the tube on her hands and knees. _Of course she had to go first..._ , Harry thought as he moved forwards and maneuvererd himself into the tube. The inside of the tube was not uncomfortable; just wide enough for two people to shuffle forwards on all fours - and just tall enough not to bump your head against the roof.

Creeping along on his hands and knees, Harry looked forwards: the sight before him made his mouth dry. 

B’Elanna’s jumpsuit was spread tight across her pert and well-toned backside. He could see her muscles moving underneath the fabric; the dimples in her ass cheeks winking in and out of existence as she shuffled forwards. He knew those dimples, and he knew them well - having spent many hours behind the half-Klingon thrusting away during their illicit moments together. 

An uncomfortable feeling in his own jumpsuit brought Harry out of his daydreams and crashing back to reality. It was starting to feel tighter. His stiffening member was pressing against the rough material; each time he scooched forwards it rubbed up against him. He stopped to try to adjust himself - anything to relieve the pressure - but B’Elanna’s voice brought him short of finding any real comfort.

“C’mon Starfleet…” she cooed over her shoulder. “Stop messing around back there.”

Resigned to his fate, he began to shuffle forwards again trying desperately to look at anything in the jefferies tube more alluring or interesting than the taut material stretched across the Chief Engineer’s hindquarters. The problem was there wasn’t anything else to look at…

After what felt like an age, B’Elanna had finally reached the right junction. She swivelled, grabbed hold of the ladder and started to climb to Deck Twelve. Harry quickly followed. Knowing exactly what he would see if he looked up, the Ensign decided to focus his gaze on each individual rung that he climbed. Truth be told, he was thankful for the change. Standing tall the pressure in his pants abated, although only a little. With any luck, the Chief of Engineering wouldn’t notice the raging hardon between his legs when he got to the top. With no more rungs to climb, he repositioned himself on his hands and knees and followed her behind towards the E.C. section. After only a few more moments, they came to a stop next to a right panel.

They both adjusted themselves so that they were kneeling side by side. Harry had tapped a small access section of the control panel, which opened it out a few inches. With an effortless pull, the panel slid outwards to reveal the invaluable gel-packs that relayed data all across the ship. With their tricorders they scanned the packs in comfortable silence. After checking the readings, they determined that the packs were fine but the problem was definitely coming from this panel.

“Let me check something.” Harry said as he reached his arm behind the packs to scan the connectors attached to the back panel. It wasn’t easy, but eventually he managed to find a comfortable position and start the scan. It wasn’t long before he heard an all-too familiar beeping coming from his ‘corder. Without thinking he yanked his hand back, and felt something catch the skin on his thumb. He let out a small hiss, and cursed himself for being so reckless. 

He checked his thumb to see the damage. A long, thin scratch ran along the length of his thumb from the nail to the back of his hand. Small, red droplets of blood had started to seep out of the cut. “Let me see.” B’Elanna insisted, and brought his hand close to her face to inspect his cut. 

“Hmmm. Nothing serious. A quick blast with the dermal regenerator and you’ll be good as new.” she grinned at him. He thanked her. “Does it hurt?” she asked coyly. Harry shook his head. She brought his hand closer to her mouth. “Want me to kiss it better?” she whispered. Harry nodded. He knew he shouldn’t, but he did anyway. 

With almost predatorial speed, she took his thumb into her mouth and closed her eyes. His own eyes almost rolled into the back of his head as he felt her rough, powerful tongue swirling around his digit. Her strong cheek muscles clamp down on him tight. It always amazed him how skilled she was with her mouth. His head fell back and he let out a small moan; at the same time she sucked down harder and growled. The whole episode lasted less than thirty seconds, but that was all it took. Pulling back, his thumb escaped her mouth with an audible pop. 

“We shouldn’t…” he stammered, before she cut him off. 

“C’mon Starfleet. What are you going to do? Make me _beg?_ ” she fluttered her eyelashes comedically, and flashed him a wolfish grin. 

“But Tom…” he started again, but gave up quickly when she inched a little closer and placed a small hand on the side of his neck. He could feel the heat from her hand radiating deep into his skin. “...won’t know.” she finished his sentence in a tender, caring voice. “Please Harry. It’s been _weeks…_ ”

It wasn’t everyday the more fearsome woman on Voyager pleaded. 

Harry could see her arousal. To anyone else it would be hard to detect, but the slight pink blush in the tips of her ears and the darkening skin around her ridges told him everything he needed to know. He slammed the E.C. console shut, and lunged towards her - as she rushed to meet him. Grabbing each other fiercely, they slammed their lips together into a brutal and scorching kiss. Tongues lapped at teeth before invading mouths to wrestle for dominance. Her hands made their way into his hair; he brought both hands down across her ass before digging his fingers hard into her derriere. She moaned into his mouth and pressed herself closer, trying to grind against the hardened flesh between his legs. 

They shouldn’t be doing this again. He knew that. She knew that as well. There was just something between them; some chemical reaction. Whenever they were alone, their lust would build, and build until the inevitable happened. 

Their hands moved to each other's zippers and soon they were both pulling down their partners' jumpsuits; yanking the material across their shoulders, down their backs, and eventually sliding it past their waists to bunch at their knees. Underwear followed quickly after. Harry almost cried out with relief when she tugged down hard on his briefs; his stiff cock crying out for freedom. She grabbed his shaft with a strength that would have frightened most men and gave it a few, quick pumps. Satisfied he was fully aroused, she giggled as she brought her hand to her mouth to lick and savour the saltiness that was already leaking from him. With deft movements he maneuvered her around and pushed her hard down onto her hands and knees. He positioned himself behind her. 

“Spread ‘em.” he demanded, in a stern and commanding voice that he used only with her. 

Her tiny hands came back and grabbed her cheeks, spreading herself wide before him. The sight obliterated any objections he had to stopping. He could see her asshole puckering in anticipation. Her slit was glistening wet. _Face down, ass up_. Just the way he liked it. He grabbed his cock and rubbed the head of his shaft up and down her opening, teasing her. She snarled like an animal. Ordinarily he would drag this out for as long as he could, but today he decided to end the torture early. 

Gripping her hips firmly, he slammed himself deep inside her tight, hot channel. They let out a moan in unison. Leaning forward he spread his weight across her back - knowing too well from previous sessions that she could easily handle his weight - before taking her; like a dog takes a bitch in heat. 

They had to be quiet. They both knew that. The problem with jefferies tubes: the sound travels. A simple conversation could echo through the tubes and be heard on any deck at random. Without some restraint, their moans, yaps, and growls could have been heard by anyone - or more likely - _everyone_ who happened to be in any one of the tubes at that very moment. 

They would be lying to themselves if they said the thrill of getting caught didn’t turn them on even more...

Biting back the urge and forcing themselves to be quiet, the only sound heard was the fast, rhythmic _smack - smack - smack_ of skin on skin as Harry pounded and thrust into B’Elanna. She was wet, and tight, and hot, and all the things he loved. _The things that kept bringing him back to her_. One hand found its way under her bra; brutally twisting and pinching her dark nipples. The other found its way between her thighs; to steady himself but also to allow expert fingers to brush back and forth rapidly across her engorged clit. 

He whispered into her ear. Awful things. Shameful things. Degrading things. She was his slut. His whore. His own little fuck-toy. “ _Who’s my dirty little girl?”_ , he cooed softly. _“I am”_ , she whimpered. He brought his wet fingers from between her legs and ordered her to suck them. She complied eagerly. 

He leaned back straight, taking his weight off her, and realigned his hip to change his angle. In the new position he could bury himself just that little bit deeper inside her. He looked down to get a view of his cock pistoning into her tight lips and saw the base of his length was covered in her cream. The sight of B’Elanna creaming for him always made him smile. Bringing the fingers to his own mouth, he sucked them; savouring her unique taste. 

Never breaking his rhythm, he brought the fingers out of his mouth and positioned them against her anus. He rubbed at the little hole at first, and she mewled in anticipation. Satisfied that she was ready and willing, he jabbed his middle finger deep inside her. Her rectum clenched tight on the invasive digit, but not tight enough to stop him sliding it back out, and slamming it back in again. A few seconds later, his index finger joined - spreading her tiny opening wider. Her head flew back. She slammed a closed fist into the tube floor. She gasped his name out loud. He never stopped his momentum.

He felt her starting to shake, and she let out an animalistic growl that was too loud for comfort. If this didn’t end soon they would be caught for sure. Feeling his own orgasm building, he reached another hand between her legs and rubbed his thumb hard and fast across her clit. She shuddered. She moaned. She thrashed. She came hard and drenched his cock. Her juices flowed down their thighs and pooled in her panties. 

The feeling of her spasming insides; contracting and squeezing down hard on his member was enough to drive him over the edge. With a moan, he emptied himself deep inside her. Still clamped down on him, her powerful Klingon muscles milked him dry. As the last drop left him, he brought his hand down hard on her right ass cheek as hard as he could. A loud crack echoed through the jefferies tube. If anyone was in the jefferies tubes that moment would have heard it for sure. Hell, they probably heard it all the way back in the Alpha Quadrant... 

He enfolded her in his arms and held her tight as they both came back down to Terra.

After a few minutes of post-quickie bliss, they shared a kiss and began to dress themselves. Without being told, she instinctively drew his softened member into her mouth, licking, sucking and swallowing down their combined juice. Giving it a final quick kiss, she handled his cock back into his briefs. They both felt it twitch. 

“Now, now, Starfleet…” she said, giving him a playful shove and a grin “...if we start that again we could be in this tube all night!”

“Would that be so bad?” he asked. 

\-----

Present day...

\-----

A slight tremor felt across the ship brought Ensign Kim out of his dreams. 

His Ops. console flashed and beeped wildly. He checked the readings and realized, embarrassingly, that he was so engrossed in his fantasies that he had failed to detect the large gas cloud that Voyager was currently flying through.

“Ensign, report.” Captain Janeway ordered.

All eyes on the bridge turned on him. 

“Apologies Captain.” He mumbled out some excuses; trying desperately to hide his erection behind his console. A small sigh escaped his lips.

_Today was going to be a long day..._


	3. Seven Sighing Softly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stolen moments between B'Elanna Torres and Harry Kim.
> 
> Seven knows...

**Seven Sighing Softly**

In the dim light of Ensign Kim’s quarters, Seven sighed softly, the bed-spread bunching between her fingertips. Her eyes closed, she tried to focus solely on the sensations that her lover was drawing out of her. Beneath the sheets, Harry was lapping lovingly away at her opening; his skilful tongue drawing its way around, and probing deep into her folds. A _very_ pleasant sensation.

Seven had been in an official ‘romantic affiliation’ with Ensign Kim - _no_ \- Harry, for approximately nine months. They had been copulating for the last six months. She had previously estimated that the coupling phase would lose its appeal after the first three. She had been _wrong_. Her partner, it turned out, happened to have an extremely gratifying skillset in this particular area. Harry was an excellent lover. 

She had been surprised, of course. Prior to their initial fraternization, Seven had conducted adequate research into the background of her prospective partner. The young Ensign had often struck her as _timid_ . Sweet, but very shy. He had no reputation aboard Voyager - that she was aware of - as a ‘ladies man’. Seven had heard the other females conversing about him in private; and it was generally agreed that Ensign Kim, possessing a cute butt (an unusual phrase - but not inaccurate) and a handsome face, was relatively inexperienced in the matters of sexuality and relationships. She had also heard a few of the more _adventurous_ women on Voyager wishing for an opportunity to “ _teach him a thing or two..._ ” 

Without meaning to, Seven let out a small moan when she felt Harry’s tongue deftly circle her clitoris eight times before moving back to her lips. 

She knew, based on her research, that a constant and steady stimulation of the clitoris would be the most effective means to achieve orgasm. She had told him so during their first time together. Harry, however, had explained - patiently - that prolonging the release would make the final result much more satisfying. ‘Amazing’ was the word he had used. It had sounded illogical in theory; but in practice she had to agree it worked. That night, as she lay naked on her back - spread open and on display in a way she had never experienced before - she achieved her first orgasm.

Harry had indeed taken his time that night. His first few touches had felt oddly intrusive and - for lack of a better word - dirty. His fingers had gently probed and tickled her privates in ways she had only ever really read about in her research. Without any practical experience, Seven had resigned herself to the ‘invasion’ and allowed Harry to continue his explorations. All too soon the sensations changed. She had felt an unnerving sensation in her stomach. A building sense of an unspecific anxiety. Afterwards, as they talked - Harry always patiently answered her questions, an admirable quality she greatly appreciated - he had told her she must have had “butterflies” in her stomach. An alarming mental image. Not _real_ butterflies, obviously…

That night she had watched - fascinated - as Harry had kissed down her body from her breasts to her mons pubis. She had been surprised to discover that the simple act of his lips trailing along her skin had turned out to be _very_ pleasurable. She had waited with bated breath for Harry’s lips to eventually make contact with her labia. “Relax”, he had said, his face hovering around her opening, “if you don’t relax it will make the experience...less pleasurable.” She had looked into his eyes and saw there a mixture of lust, love, and truth. She gave a nod of acknowledgement. 

Harry’s lips had made contact with her essence for the first time. The sensation was...unique. Soft and pleasurable in a way that made her feel entirely special. Before long, Harry’s ministrations had Seven ‘hot and bothered’ (as Harry would later say) - she had felt a tingling sensation in the pit of her stomach. Her skin flushed with heat, and a sheen of sweat broke out. Moans escaped her throat. Sounds she had never made before, and had never purposefully intended to make, were coming out of her mouth uncontrollably. The intensity continued to build. Her hand gripped his hair and held him close to her centre. In the throes of her passion she had pleaded, repeatedly chanting: “Please, Harry…Please...” without really understanding what she had needed. Then it had hit her - her first orgasm. An explosion of pleasure that left her sated, spent, and virtually immobile, save for the occasional twitching in her legs and abdomen. 

She would never forget that first night; and not just before of her eidetic memory. 

A similar tingling sensation was beginning to build in Seven. Beneath the sheets Harry was expertly probing and playing with her sex. Seven quickly deduced that - based on her current biological signs (increased breathing, heart rate, and muscle contractions) - Harry would bring her to orgasm in less than ninety seconds. 

Seventy six seconds later, Seven came hard. She rode the wave of pleasure and let out a sound that was half-way between a growl and a moan. Harry continued to lap away as she regained her senses. 

She felt him kissing his way back up her body. Roguishly he dipped his tongue into her belly-button and she made a sound that he insisted on calling a ‘giggle’. Before long the sheets lifted to reveal a thick head of dark hair and a pair of hazel coloured eyes. His mouth was covered in her secretions. He grinned wolfishly before moving up to kiss her full on the mouth. She tasted herself on his lips. The first time he did this she wanted to object, but decided against it. Over time, she came to appreciate it more. The taste of her own fluids and Harry’s lips; well, it was fairly erotic she had to admit. 

The kiss deepened. Without breaking it, he had laid himself flush against her skin, her breasts pressed against the expanse of his chest. Her stiff nipples brushed against him as he positioned himself. She could feel his stiff arousal pressing hard against the inside of her thigh. Unconsciously she spread her legs for him, allowing him a better angle to position himself at her entrance. Her hands moved to his well-toned arms and gripped them hard as he pushed into her. She moaned into his mouth as she felt the familiar - and exquisite - sensation of being stretched and filled completely. He moved slowly, burying himself deep inside her before slowly drawing himself back. Another example of his _delayed gratification_ tactics. It worked. 

Seven cast her mind back again to their first night together. The first time Harry had entered her had been incredibly painful. The young Ensign had turned out to be much thicker than she had anticipated. He had been as gentle as he possibly could. After tearing her hymen, he had settled himself and allowed her to adjust to his size, kissing away the tears that had leaked from her eyes. Before long, most of the pain had subsided and Harry moved slowly and cautiously within her. Within a few minutes he had achieved orgasm. She had not. Still, she had felt oddly satisfied by the experience, and was curious to try it again.

Harry’s movement picked-up speed and brought Seven out of her memories and back into the moment. She began to feel warmer deep inside as his member slid back and forth inside her. Instinctively her hands squeezed down harder on his arms. He would bruise, she knew, but he never seemed concerned. His head moved to the nap of her neck, nuzzling into the crook. Here he planted soft kisses along the Borg implant below her ear. During their first few weeks together, Harry had often spent time exploring Seven’s cybernetic components. When pressed for an explanation, he had said he wanted to understand and touch everything that made her unique - including the parts left over from her time as a drone. He had also explained, after trailing his fingertips along a subdermal wire along the base of her back - that just so happened to make her buttocks contract and squeeze when caressed - they seemed to be responsive to stimulation. He was not wrong. 

Seven moaned into Harry’s ear as he continued to drive himself into her channel, enjoying the feeling of being full and pleasured. Her breasts began to rock back and forth as he picked up momentum, rubbing along his chest. During their first few encounters, Seven had been unnerved by the movement of her breasts during sex - regardless of the position. It was something she had not previously considered before engaging in physical intimacy. She knew from her studies that she had larger breasts than most women on Voyager; a hereditary trait of her Scandinavian bloodline. Either during ‘missionary’, ‘cow-girl’, and ‘doggy-style’ (to name but a few positions they had tried...) her breasts always reacted the same way - by either bouncing or swaying in time with their movements. Finding it oddly distracting she had tried to prevent it from happening by placing an arm across them to halt their movement; but Harry had repeatedly moved her arm away and tenderly asked her not to hide herself during these moments. Evidently he enjoyed the view. 

As if reading her mind, Harry moved his head to her chest and captured a nipple in his mouth - suckling hard. Seven moaned at the sensation. She had discovered early on that, despite their proclivity to move annoyingly during sex, she enjoyed having her breasts played with. They were very sensitive. Especially her nipples. It also transpired that Harry was fond of large breasts, and often took ample time in playing with them - which delighted Seven. 

Her lovers' pace continued to build. Instinctively, Seven wrapped her legs around his, as if unconsciously needing to pin his body closer to hers. She closed her eyes and listened to the sound of flesh slapping against flesh and laboured breathing - mixed with sighs and moans from both Harry and Seven - and the rhythmic thumping of the mattress. She knew that closing her eyes during sexual intercourse heightened her other senses. She slid her hands down Harry’s back, appreciating the feeling of the strong muscles moving beneath her finger tips. She felt his muscles tensing; his breathing becoming more laboured and his movements more jerky. She could also feel the familiar pulsing of his member against her inner walls: warning signs that his orgasm was fast approaching. Her own was also near - with her eyes closed and her lover moving inside her - she began to feel the sensation of a familiar tingling in her loins. With Borg enhanced cognitive powers, she quickly estimated that Harry would achieve orgasm before her. That was not a desired outcome, and steps would need to be taken to correct this course of action. She knew what needed to be done. 

“Harry, wait.” she said, pushing him slightly off her body. His movements came to a still. She unlocked her legs. Confusion was visible in his face; he was close to his own release and clearly disturbed at having to stop. She repositioned herself, rolling him off and moving into a position that allowed her to manoeuvre to her hands and knees. She arched her back and presented her rear to him, and looked back over her shoulder. She saw the look of understanding light in his eyes. Turning her head back, she pressed her face against the sheets and felt him move around behind her; the feeling of his thick member at her opening. His strong hands grabbed her hips. A quick thrust, and she felt herself stretching to a wonderful fullness. 

They had used this position many times during their coupling. Like most Terra methods of intercourse it had been given an archaic name: ‘doggy-style’ - most likely due to its resemblance to the mating practices of canines. The first time they had attempted the position, Seven had been unsure if she enjoyed it. It seemed oddly impersonal, and she had lamented the fact that she just could not see Harry during their coupling. Over time she had come to appreciate it more. The position had its advantages - Harry was able to bury himself deeper, and thrust faster. It was also a favourite of Harry’s. 

Seven ground out a growl into the sheets of the bed as Harry built to a satisfactory pace, she estimated that it would allow her to achieve her release at roughly the same time as her lover. Enjoying the feeling of Harry inside her, and the sounds of his abdomen slapping against her rear, Seven tried to block out all other external stimuli and focus on her impending orgasm. 

She let out a loud, extended moan when it finally hit her and the release that had been building inside finally freed. Her fingers twisted and bunched into the sheets, and the muscle contractions made her legs begin to tremble. Approximately two-point-eight seconds later, she felt his release; the familiar sensation of his warm seeding filling her and making her feel full. He whimpered her name as he climaxed, a trait she found most endearing. 

Seven collapsed on the bed, and Harry collapsed beside her. She felt his arms snake around her waist, drawing her into a ‘spooning’ position. His member was still inside her, and she found it oddly satisfying. Focusing on returning her breathing to normal - she was pleased to find him doing the same - his warm breath tickling the back of her neck. She felt him plant a soft kiss on her shoulders and smiled.

“Love you…” he murmured, falling asleep. 

It was not the first time he had expressed feelings of love verbally. She had not returned them yet because she did not truly understand her emotions. She cared for him a great deal. When on duty, thoughts of Harry took up more and more of her time. A distraction from her daily duties, but a welcome one. She often found herself contemplating Harry Kim, and their union, when off-duty and apart. Yes, she knew she had feelings for Harry but was unsure if they fit the definition of ‘love’.

There was also the issue of B’Elanna Torres. 

Seven knew that Harry and Lieutenant Torres were engaged in a physical affiliation and - based on her observation of the two, and Lieutenant Paris - was fairly sure Paris was oblivious to the situation. Seven was not oblivious. She saw everything clearly: no romantic feelings between Torres and Harry, but an obvious sexual attraction that had been acted upon - and was - continuing in an illicit manner.

When she first discovered the affair she had decided to keep quiet. The relationship between Harry and Lieutenant Torres appeared to have been ongoing for some time, and her own relationship with Harry was new. There were many reasons why she continued to remain quiet; primarily she did not understand enough about how she felt for Harry Kim to warrant intervening in his pre-existing relationship with the half-Klingon. However, Seven’s feelings for Harry Kim were deepening. If they were to truly engage in a long-term and fulfilling relationship - as she desired them to - the situation between the Chief Engineer and Harry would need to be dealt with. 

Seven closed her eyes and began to drift off to sleep, with the ghost of an idea forming in her perfect mind...


End file.
